DOWN UNDER – PART 2

A day and a half was hardly enough to do justice to Melbourne, but we gave it our best.  It’s a very busy city, and the Sunday crowds on the sidewalks reminded us of rush hour in Manhattan.  We left early Monday morning, glad to get out into the countryside again.  Our fellow travellers hail from Scotland, France, Germany, Switzerland, Sweden, Austria, The Netherlands, Belgium, England, and Australia.

Our first destination on Day 1 of the Melbourne to Alice Springs Intrepid tour was the Great Ocean Road, billed as one of the world’s most scenic seaside drives.  It runs for 243 km along the coast and was built between 1919 and 1932 by 3,000 returned World War I servicemen as a memorial to fellow soldiers killed during the War.

We made several stops along the way to take in the highlights, including the Twelve Apostles, a collection of limestone stacks created by the powerful erosive action of the Southern Ocean waves.  Only eight of the original apostles remain, the others having presumably left the Church to follow someone else.  The photo below shows a few.

The unrelenting crowds were a real turnoff, especially the Chinese tourists who push and shove, their singular mission being to take pictures of themselves.  One can only wonder why.  We watched in amazement as six helicopters buzzed around, ferrying gawkers nonstop on ten-minute rides at $100 a shot!

Down the road from the Twelve Apostles, we came to Loch Ard Gorge, an enticing pocket beach reachable only by a flight of steep stairs.  Elva and I watched as the young members of our group were photographed by tour guide Dave while doing “The Jump”.  The photo below illustrates why we enjoy travelling with a younger crowd!

I compared the Great Ocean Road to ones we’ve travelled in Eastern Canada: the Cabot Trail; our own Gulf Shore Parkway; the Gaspé Peninsula; the Port-au-Port Peninsula in Western Newfoundland; and any number of scenic coastal drives on mainland Nova Scotia.  Australia’s is nice, but not as good as what we have on offer.  For me, the most compelling feature of the Great Ocean Road is rather the story of how it was built.

Dave promised we’d see kangaroos before arriving at our destination that first night.  As we hit the foothills of the Grampian Mountains, we saw groups of them in almost every field.  As we climbed, several ran across the road.  By the time we’d arrived in the village of Hall’s Gap, our destination for the night, they were everywhere.  Hall’s Gap has a human population of some 318 souls, and some 35,000 kangaroos!  You really have to watch where you walk!

Next morning, we rose bright and early for the drive up to a mountaintop lookoff.  The sight of the valley below was quite impressive, as were the howling wind and the 10 degree C temperature!  We walked down into a gorge to see the magnificent MacKenzie Falls before visiting an aboriginal cultural centre in Hall’s Gap where we learned the sad story of how the country’s original inhabitants were treated by European settlers.  In the early days, aborigines were considered non-human, and treated as such in every way.  Their story is an all-too-familiar reminder of how we treated our own First Nations in Canada.  And all of the present-day challenges our two countries face are the same.

After a six-hour drive through countryside that looks a lot like our Prairie Provinces, rolling past enormous herds of cattle and sheep, we arrived in the capital of the State of South Australia, Adelaide, a city of 1.25 million.  We checked into the YHA Hostel, our first official stay in a hostel.  There’s a first time for everything!  Actually, we spent a little extra for a private room with ensuite.  We’d heard too many horror stories from fellow travellers, unable to sleep a wink when forced to bunk in a dorm with an inveterate snorer.

We took it easy on our ‘off’ day in Adelaide, opting to take a walking tour of the city and hop on the free bus to get our bearings.  We had lunch at the cavernous Central Market and spent part of the afternoon people-watching on the pedestrian Rundle Mall, entertained by street musicians, buskers, and this couple who offered free hugs.  It was fascinating to see people come up to them.  Everyone smiled and left feeling better.  Adelaide ranks as our favourite city in Australia to this point in our journey.

I’d always wanted to go to William Creek.  There’s something about a place with a population of 12 that appeals to my curious and adventurous nature.  It wasn’t easy getting to William Creek.  We left Adelaide early and drove through wine country until we hit the prairie - vast fields of wheat as far as the eye could see.  Next came scrubbier land as it became drier and drier; the kind of stuff that supports only beef cattle and sheep.

Finally, we entered the Flinders Ranges National Park.  The bus turned into our campsite and our guide, Wayne, directed us to pick up our swags and select a place to sleep.  Reading the Intrepid trip notes, I naturally assumed that ‘camping’ meant in a tent.  Mistake!  A ‘swag’ is a heavy canvas bag - a bedroll, essentially - with a thin foam mattress inside and a plastic underside.  No tent?  No problem!

Picture La Reine du Barachois faced with the reality that she’ll have to sleep à la belle étoile!  I arrive with two sleeping bags to put inside the swag, at a cost of $30 each.  She says  spontaneously: “So much for the upgrade!”  “Yep, c’est ça voyager avec Intrepid!”, I reply.  We shared a laugh and had to explain to our neighbours what was so funny.  It didn’t take her too long to adapt though.  You can’t be too fussy if you want to see the real Outback.

We went for a long walk around Wilpena Pound and climbed to a lookout that provided a spectacular view of the former cattle station.  The temperature hovered near 35 degrees C.  After a late supper, darkness was soon upon us and we crawled into our swags, not quite sure what to expect.  I stared at the stars, brighter and more numerous than I’d ever seen, and marvelled at the immensity of the universe.  It was the first time I’d ever slept without a roof of some kind over my head.  To my great surprise - and Elva’s - we got a decent night’s sleep.

Next morning, we saw wild kangaroos by the hundreds and emus by the dozen.  They were everywhere!  Most of our long 500-kilometre drive to William Creek was on a dirt road, the Oodnadatta Track.  The only time we saw pavement was in one of the small towns: Leigh Creek, deserted since the coal mine closed; Lyndhurst, home of an eccentric sandstone carver by the name of Talc Alf who’s declared his own republic; and Marree, where guys pass the time drinking beer in the only air-conditioned building in town, the Marree Hotel.  This was the Outback - the ‘Vastness of nothing!’, as our tour guide described it.

After a brief stop at Lake Eyre - dry, of course, for most of the year - we drove through more desert and arrived at the tiny hamlet of William Creek around suppertime.  There may have been a William, but there is no creek.  It was 42 degrees C!  We grabbed a cool drink at the iconic William Creek Hotel which features a dining room built of old railway ties.  After supper, it was time to slip into our swags for a second night under the stars.  We almost died with the heat until a slight breeze mercifully arose.  Both of us slept like babies.  I had to wake Elva!  Who would have known?

 

The flies woke us up.  Ah, yes, the flies!  Australia is as famous for its flies as my hometown of Wellington is for its mosquitoes.  These critters, slightly smaller than a housefly, are incredibly persistent, stopping at nothing to get at their target.  Not surprisingly in such an arid environment, it’s moisture they want, and they’ll get it from any available orifice.  A good reason to keep your clothes on and an even better reason to keep your mouth shut!  Like most of our fellow travellers, we had nets to wear over our heads.  Hellish hard to eat through though!
A short three-hour drive brought us to Coober Pedy, billed as the opal capital of the world.  On the way, we crossed the dingo fence, a 5,000-kilometre-long barrier that prevents dingos, a type of wild dog, from crossing between the north and the south of Australia.  The dingo is very destructive to sheep.

I think we should build a Trump Fence between Canada and the United States to keep ‘you-know-who’ out!

Because of the oppressive summer heat, more than half of the Coober Pedy’s residents live underground in abandoned mining shafts.  So, of course, intrepid travellers that we are, we slept underground too, in a bunkhouse carved out of the rock where the temperature is a comfortable 22 degrees C, summer and winter.  Again that afternoon, the mercury topped out at over 40 degrees.  Our tour guide explained that it has been a ‘mild’ summer, cooler than the normal 45-50 degrees C!  We were literally melting away, urged on by our guide to drink four litres of water a day to avoid dehydration, more if we’re active.
We travel in a sturdy four-wheel-drive diesel bus.  It’s hot and dusty and the road never seems to end.  We seldom meet a vehicle.  This proves to be a plus when someone needs to go to le petit coin.  Our meals are very basic since our driver is also tour guide and chef.  Everybody helps out with meal preparation and cleanup, and no one seems to mind the long days on the road.

Next morning, we rose early enough to see the sun rise over the desert at a place called the Breakaways Scenic Reserve, and made our way towards the iconic Uluru.  Back on blacktop again, we made good time, crossed into Northern Territory, and got our first glimpse of Uluru late in the afternoon.  Along the way, we passed through Australia’s largest cattle station, at 6 million acres almost four times the size of Prince Edward Island!

It almost never rains near Uluru, but it did the day we got there and through the night.  Creepy-crawlies like this poisonous ten-centimetre centipede I spotted in the men’s washroom leave their burrows to avoid drowning.  We were told that a sting from one of these things is like being seared by a hot poker.  I was mindful of this as I sat down to do my business, and got the hell out as quick as I could!
It’s best to get to the base of Uluru early: to see the sun rise; to beat the heat; and to beat the crowds.  It is a spectacular gift of nature; the World’s biggest monolith; the ancestral home of the Mala people; and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  We walked the 11-kilometre trail around the base of the rock, watching its colour change depending on the angle of the sun.  Our guide took us on a cultural walk, explaining the significance of the sacred site to the Anagnu people.  This proved to be just as interesting as the views of Uluru itself.  We spent eight hours at Uluru and saw it from all angles.  It is magnificent.
Up at 4:15 next morning to walk at Kata-Tjutu, Uluru’s next-door mountain cousin.  We did a six-kilometre hike and, by the time we got back to the parking lot at 10:00, the temperature was in the high 30s.  The trails close when the mercury hits 36 degrees C.  I’ve never drank as much water in my life: five or six litres a day!
A long drive brought us to Kings Canyon where we settled in for our last night of camping, and our last group dinner.  Our campsite couldn’t have been much farther from civilization.  We saw dingos (wild dogs) on the way in and had to keep our food away from them.  We had a really rough night.  The temperature didn’t drop below 27 degrees and it was humid.  We tried to sleep but, with no ventilation of any kind, it was stifling.  No one slept more than an hour.

Never mind, breakfast was at 4:45.  Then, the drive to the Canyon and our six-kilometre hike up to the rim where the views were spectacular.  After an early lunch and a six-hour drive, we finally arrived in Alice Springs, a nice city of some 28,000, right in the heart of the continent.  We checked into our hotel and turned on the air conditioning.  No alarm clock tomorrow.  Time to get some clothes washed and rest up before beginning our West Coast adventure.